What Happens in Vegas
by Xx Girl With Issues xX
Summary: Helping Cole through the pain of withdrawal causes Schuyler to re-examine his own past. -5.29.09: CHAPTERS 3 and 4 UP-
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I do not own One Life to Live, or any of the characters.

**Rating:** In movie terms? PG-13/R

**Timeline:** After the May 1st episode.

**Summary: **While helping Cole through his withdrawal pains, Schuyler remembers his past.

**Author's Notes: **I know. The title is clichéd and lame. I'm sorry.

**What Happens In Vegas…**

**Chapter 1**

The bright sunlight was filtering through the now open window of Starr Manning's bedroom, hurting the eyes of the sick boy crumpled on the floor. All the people he had hurt with his drug use, heck, even the people he WANTED to hurt would not leave him alone.

Cole Thornhart gripped Starr's comforter and yelled, screamed at everyone to stop, just go a-fucking-way. First Markko, followed by of course Nora and Matthew, his mom; even those scumbags Todd Manning and Schuyler Joplin had stopped by just to let Cole know how much he had FAILED.

Sensing someone over his shoulder, Cole turned to see Matthew again, though this time with no Nora by his side.

"_Matthew,"_ he managed to grit out, _"I hate myself for what I did to you." _

"_You should,"_ Pure hate was flowing through the younger boy's eyes. Horrified, Cole slowly started to crawl back as Matthew rose from the chair and started for him.

"_You're the one that should be in that chair, not me."_ Cole was now up against the bottom of the windowsill; Matthew had backed him into a corner with his anger and was now shaking a finger in his face.

The young boy's voice was quiet, but oh so deadly, _"It. Should. Be. You."_ With that, Matthew grabbed Cole by the front of his shirt and yanked him to his feet. Someone else reached over and spun him to face the open window; it was Nora, her face twisted in anger. _"Now my family might finally get some peace."_

Cole was panicking. Matthew had released him, but as he tried to turn away from both Nora and the window, Markko blocked his way, _"If you're dead, you won't screw up anyone else's life. If you jump, I could still go college. Jump, if you're feeling guilty about wrecking my future."_

Turning to his right, Cole saw that Marty had taken Nora's place, _"Come on son, it won't be half as painful as what you put me through."_

He now had one knee resting on the edge of the windowsill, the sun almost blinding him, as he looked at the ground a couple stories below. He started and almost dropped when he felt a hand grip his left arm.

"_Say hello to your baby for me,"_ Todd hissed.

He was leaning halfway out the window, terrified, waiting for Todd to give him that final shove. Another strong hand took hold of his right arm. _"And kiss Starr goodbye," _purred that sleazebag Joplin, _"Never mind, you did that already. Any future kissing of Starr will be taken care of by me."_

Cole gritted his teeth and closed his eyes as Joplin grabbed the back of his neck. He felt his foot leave the ground and his body pitch forward. At the last possible second, he felt Joplin's hands on his arm and scruff tighten painfully and yank him backwards.

Cole groaned as his landed on his back, on Starr's floor. Joplin gazed down at him for a moment, before crouching down at his side.

The teenager glared, despite shaking so hard that he practically flopping on the floor. Was that scumbag REALLY going to beat the shit out of him before chucking him out a window?

Not if Cole had his way. He reached up and shoved Schuyler hard, lunging toward the open frame. He barely got halfway there before that pervert had him around the waist, dragging him back. Cole started to fight violently, trying his hardest to escape. He was not so much scared anymore, as he was furious.

"_You ARE NOT going to kill me, and you ARE NOT taking Starr!" _he roared, as Joplin pinned the fighting teen to the floor.

"Cole. COLE! Stop fighting!" Joplin's voice had changed; it was no longer that creepy, mocking purr…it was more…urgent, almost afraid.

Schuyler now had Cole's head pressed to the floor, and his arms pinned. He hated using his strength against anyone, especially a withdrawing addict, even this one.

"Cole, Starr called me." The teen's thrashing had subsiding, but at this, he started anew.

"COLE!" Schuyler repeated urgently, "She told me you were here, that you needed help." Cole's feet, which were not held down and therefore furiously kicking at Schuyler, slowed their angry drumbeat.

Encouraged, he went on, "She's stuck at her dad's. She'll come be with you as soon as she can. She's very worried about you." Cole was now just lying there, still restrained, but now he was calm, "She is?" Schuyler loosened his grip on the teen and allowed him to sit up. "She is," the teacher confirmed. Cole's eyes narrowed slightly, "Why'd she call you then?"

Quickly, Schuyler scooted between Cole and the window, knowing the boy might still be having some hallucinations. Using all his knowledge from his own addiction, and later, counselor training, Schuyler continued to talk Cole down, "She was worried about Rachel having to report this to the courts. She doesn't want to see you in jail. Since I am no longer your counselor, she called me."

"And what's to stop YOU from calling Rachel, or talking to the judge?"

Schuyler sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He knew that as Rachel's coworker, he was obligated to report this. He could lose his job at the center if he didn't. But something was stopping him. A brief thought crossed his mind: he should be used to losing jobs now anyway, right? He was lost in his own thoughts and stalling, and Cole noticed.

"Huh teach?" it appeared as if the terror from the hallucinations had subsided and the teenager was resorting back to sarcasm. "Gonna turn me in? Wouldn't that be satisfying? RIGHT?" And rage. As Cole's voice rose, he picked up the bottled water Starr had left for him and chucked it at good ol' Mr. J.

Schuyler ducked away and slowly stood up, but made no further move to restrain Cole.

Cole stood as well, "Sending me to jail works out perfectly for you, Joplin. I'm out of the picture, while you're SCREWING MY GIRLFRIEND." Cole was now all but spitting his words in Schuyler's face, but the bastard wasn't flinching. "Well, FUCK YOU. I will NOT stop fighting for her. I LOVE her."

"And she loves you." Schuyler kept his voice as calm and even as possible, not wanting Cole to take this statement as sarcasm at all, "She told me on the phone."

Well – that part was only partially true. Starr had texted Schuyler a brief message: _I know I should be leaving you alone but Cole's sick and needs help. I'm my dad's. He's my house. Plz don't call Rachel. Schuyler, I'm scared for him. I NEED him 2B ok._ Despite knowing that he might be reopening a huge can of worms, Schuyler in good conscience could not ignore someone in a state as dire as Cole's. He knew that while Cole had turned to drugs to cope with Hope's death; Starr's way of acting out was to latch onto the first new person that cared. He believed that Starr loved Cole, that he was just a temporary, convenient distraction.

"How'd you get in here without Starr's family seeing you?" the teen asked. Schuyler sighed again, but understood how crazy things must be inside the boy's head. Sheepishly, he answered, "No one was home, so I picked the locks." A slight uncomfortable pause, "Y'know, an old junkie's trick."

Strangely, Cole smirked slightly at this, "Good going, teach." Seeing that the teen seemed alert and responsive, Schuyler decided to seize the moment, "Come on, let's get out of here." At this, Cole froze, "Umm, and go where? I'm not leaving. I'm waiting for Starr,"

"We…um, you…can't wait for her here. You don't know when she's coming back, and I'm surprised her family didn't hear you yelling. So I need to take you somewhere else." Cole still wasn't moving. Gritting his teeth, Schuyler made a "promise" he hoped he wouldn't have to break later: "Look man, we need to go. I won't take you to the center."

"Where then?"

"The hospital…?" Schuyler's voice rose at the end a bit. He couldn't leave the kid to be found screaming his guts out in Starr's room, and couldn't leave him to his own devices either. Despite Cole's current lucidity, the boy was sweating, shaking, and twitching. Schuyler knew it was just a matter of time before the bad thoughts came back. But even at a hospital, there was no guarantee that Cole would be closely monitored; Schuyler knew that firsthand. Also, the hospital would probably end up calling the center, as per policy.

"No, that won't work either," the teacher answered himself. Then, he had an idea. It was a horrible, shitty idea, but an idea nonetheless. "I guess you could come stay with me." As soon as the words were out, Schuyler wanted to take them back. True, he felt pity for Cole, but currently didn't like him at all. It was Cole who sicced Todd on him; Cole who had treated his ex so badly that the teen threw herself at a grown man for comfort; Cole who had used the drugs that made him act this way in the first place.

On the other hand, Schuyler Joplin was a human being. The REAL reason he was going out of his way to help Cole was that because, a few years back, Schuyler WAS Cole; was WORSE than Cole (in some ways; luckily, he had never crippled a kid, but hey, he wasn't judging).

However, Cole's base reaction was the same as Schuyler's, "No way in hell." While he wanted to throw his hands up and say, "Ok, peace," he couldn't do that. Starr's family would be home shortly and by the looks of the rich palace, wouldn't take to kindly to two strangers lurking around.

Reaching into his pocket, Schuyler withdrew his keys and jingled them at Cole, "Fine. But let's at least go somewhere else, take a ride. I'm assuming you don't want food, but man, aren't you HOT?"

He took off his blazer and pretended to fan himself, "I don't know about you man, but even with that window open, this place is stifling." Cole still was gazing at him suspiciously, swaying a bit on his feet. The kid was also sweating profusely.

"Yeah. I guess I could get out for a bit." He stumbled toward the door and yanked it open, Schuyler on his heels. The pair then left the house without incident, and climbed into Schuyler's car. He started the engine and pulled off, heading for the highway.

Cole had opened his window and was leaning his head and arm out, almost in a trance, enjoying the cool air on his sick skin. All of a sudden he started, "Shit. I left my cell at Starr's. I wanted to call her. I think I tried before, but Manning hung up on me. Mind if I use yours?"

He reached for Schuyler's cell that was resting in the cup holder, but the man quickly snatched it up, "Cole, the last thing I need right now is for Manning to see my name show up calling Starr's phone."

This was true, but as he spoke a plan was forming in Schuyler's head. Heaving what he hoped was an exasperated sigh, he exited the highway and made a few turns. "There's the desk phone in my room, you can use that."

Cole chuckled, "Afraid of big, bad Manning teach?" Schuyler ignored the jab, keeping his eyes on the road. "Why? How angry DID he get at you for screw-''

"I'm not scr- I'm not with Starr, Cole. In any way, shape, or form, for the last time," Schuyler growled. He was trying to keep his temper, but the kid was pushing it. Schuyler would never admit to fearing Todd, but did worry a little bit that one day he'd end up behind the Motel with his throat slit.

But he was a man. He'd tough it out, "I'm not looking to get matching black eyes. At least not this week."

This amused Cole, "He punch you good?"

The reply, through gritted teeth, "Slammed me into a door."

"Did you see stars?

"Yup."

A chuckle from Cole, "Good."

Rolling his eyes, Schuyler pulled the car into the parking lot of the Angel Square.

**A/N: **I hope you enjoy this story. My skillz are a bit rusty so bare with me. I didn't like the chapter, but think it's a good set up.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** ABC owns all.

**Summary:** Helping Cole get through withdrawal causes Schuyler to remember his own past.

**Author's Notes:** Since this is my first fanfic in years, I'm a bit rusty. I noticed some mistakes in the first chapter that bothered me; mainly, formatting. I'll try to make this chapter sections, instead of one big block. Also, my editing was sub par. Starr's text was missing the "at" symbol and I kept going from "text-speak" to full words. Sorry. I don't use text speak, even in texts.

Also, Nora was missing a line in the flashback. It should have read, "Feeling sorry, Cole? I'd like to see you act on it. My family might finally get some peace."

And finally, I thought I made a sloppy transition from the hallucination "Schuyler" to the actual one. There was supposed to be a paragraph there. Sorry for the long A/N, but those imperfections were bothering me.

Alright, onward with our story…

*~*~*~*~*

**What Happens in Vegas…**

**Chapter 2**

As Schuyler fiddled with his keys, trying to find the right one for the room, Cole leaned against the doorframe. He had his head buried in the crook of his arm and was groaning softly.

"Can you hurry up?"

Schuyler found the correct key and stuck it in the lock, but paused for a moment, thinking. Cole's condition was deteriorating rapidly, and if Schuyler stuck to his plan, it might end up pushing the teen back into hallucination land.

But, he reasoned, the kid was going to end up back there one way or another, and at least Schuyler knew how to handle the situation.

Calmly, he pushed open the door, the sound causing Cole to pick his head up. Bleary-eyed, he gazed at Schuyler, "Need…needa call St…Starr,"

"Phone's in the room, man" Schuyler gestured for the teen to enter. Cole complied by stumbling over the threshold and promptly tripping over the table, which caused him to land awkwardly against the couch.

The teacher winced, remembering when his own body wouldn't cooperate; luckily, the withdrawal had taken thoughts of any other pain away. It seemed the same way for Cole, who groaning, was now attempting to right himself, even as he slid off the couch and onto the floor. "Joplin? Joplin, phone…gimme the damn phone," the boy hissed, "Where…fuck's th' phone?"

Schuyler was still in the doorway, watching this scene unfold. He needed to make his next move quickly, but calmly, as Cole was obviously on the verge of losing it again. Taking a step into the room, the man nodded at the back of the room, "In the back, around the wall." As he motioned at the divider between the living area and bedroom, Cole let out a loud groan and flopped away from the couch, literally starting to crawl towards his goal.

As soon as the teen had his back turned, Schuyler fully entered the room and shut the door behind him. Swiftly, he slammed the main lock home and added the chain. As a final precaution, he stuck a key into his newest, as-of-yet used lock (the one he added himself after Manning had paid him a visit).

With a sigh he slipped the keys into his pocket and turned in time to see Cole on his feet and lunging at him. Schuyler sidestepped and the boy ran into the door (afterwards, Schuyler felt awful about this, but he was no longer a fighter, and had given into his instincts when seeing anyone come at him).

"Goddamit Joplin!" Cole cursed, grabbing the unforgiving knob and yanking, "You fucking liar! Lemme out!" The teen then began banging on the door with both fists.

Schuyler knew that in his present state Cole would be unable to escape and was also unconcerned about the racket the boy was making. After all, a murder had gone on here undetected! Better to let Cole scream his lungs out here then a mansion.

A thought came to Schuyler and he crossed to the window to shut and lock it. Like at Starr's, if Cole's mind told him to jump again, Schuyler would probably be able to once again pull him back, but it was a close call last time.

Cole had now turned from the door and was focusing his aggression on objects around the room. Schuyler understood and just watched. He wasn't too worried about his things, even as Cole attacked the dresser and began to rip the dresser drawers open and fling the contents about.

Suddenly Cole froze. Schuyler did too, when he saw what the boy had in his grip. _Shit. I forgot about that._

The teacher stepped forward, in an attempt to take Starr's letter from Cole, but the teen reacted quicker and backed away, obviously scanning the document as he did, "_Schuyler…wait for me…_"

Cole paused there and Schuyler snatched the paper away, crumpling it into his pocket, to be discarded later.

But the damage had been done. "WAIT FOR ME!?" Cole roared, his eyes flashing somehow, despite being glazed over due to his drug use, "Is this why you locked me up Joplin? To rub that fact that you're sleazing all over Starr IN MY FACE?"

Schuyler put his hands up and spoke softly, "That letter was from before, Cole-"

"Before WHAT? Before you had SEX?"

"Before you started cleaning up. Starr doesn't want me Cole, she never really did! You used drugs to cope with your baby's death? Well, Starr used…me."

*~*~*~*~*

Cole was breathing heavily. Joplin's voice was slipping back into that mocking tone, _"Starr used me Cole. And I let her. And I liked it."_

The teen grabbed his hair in his fists and curled into himself, shaking his head from side to side. At this point, Schuyler's phone rang. Seeing Starr's number on the screen, he picked up cautiously, half expecting Todd on the other end, testing him, "Hello? Starr?"

Cole looked up at this, appearing to listen to Schuyler's end of the conversation, "You're not at your dad's anymore? No, we left your house. Yeah, he's with me…"

Glancing at Cole, the teacher hesitated. Starr asked where they were; she wanted to see Cole, but assessing the boy's current state, Schuyler thought that that was a bad idea.

"He's fine, Starr. I'm taking care of him, alright? Just stay there and wait for my call." Cole whimpered quietly, "Starr, I love you."

Schuyler nodded, and a quiet smile appeared for a minute, "He said the same about you. Right. 'Bye."

*~*~*~*~*

Cole sunk to his knees at Joplin's feet. A piercing ring cut the air. Joplin looked at the screen and answered the cell phone, _"Hello? Starr? I missed you sweetheart. We left your house; yeah, I took IT with me."_ Joplin glanced down at Cole, a look of mocking disdain on his face, _"He's fine right now, hon. Don't worry, I'll take care of it, alright? Just wait for my call. I know you will." _

"_Starr,"_ Cole choked out, _"I love you."_

Joplin nodded, and his shit-eating grin grew, _"He said the same thing you just said to me, about you. I know, right? 'Bye, darlin'"_

*~*~*~*~*

Schuyler put the phone aside and crotched next to Cole. Gently, he touched the boy's shoulder, not surprised by the violent flinch in response. Schuyler spoke quietly, knowing the teen must have started hallucinating again. Bringing up Starr with Cole when Schuyler was around seemed to be the catalyst. Schuyler remembered how much he'd clung to Stacy when he was sick.

Suddenly, Cole leapt to his feet and ran into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. In his state, he had forgotten to the door, Schuyler noticed, but it didn't matter either way.

The man rose and went to the door, just listening, giving the boy space. He heard Cole rifling through the shelves and medicine cabinet. He sighed, knowing what the teen was doing; "There's nothing in there that you want Cole,"

The door swung open immediately, and Schuyler met Cole's glaring, bloodshot eyes with his own.

"Sorry man, ex-addict. I don't even drink,"

With a huff, Cole slammed the door again. There was quiet for a moment and Schuyler's brain raced. While there was nothing in the bathroom for a withdrawing addict to "score" off of, there was plenty of things that a depressed, hallucinating, withdrawing addict could try to harm himself with.

Thankfully, however, as Schuyler opened the door, he was greeting by Cole on his knees at the toilet, purging the toxins from his body. The teacher reached over and filled a clean cup with water, placing it on the floor near the teen.

Schuyler himself took a seat on the ledge of the tub, as Cole finished up, flushing and wiping his mouth. He took some water and slumped against the side of tub, moaning, "Is it almost over?"

_No,_ thought Schuyler. Aloud, he said, "You're doing fine, buddy," and padded the boy on his shoulder.

Cole looked at him hazily, "Right now, I can't remember why the fuck I started using this crap."

Schuyler just chuckled and gazed at his feet.

The teen nudged him, "What about you?"

*~*~*~*~*

**A/N:** Vegas, baby, Vegasss! Next chapter…


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** ABC owns One Life. I own Vegas.

**Summary: **Schuyler remembers his past while trying to help Cole through drug addiction.

**Author's Notes: **I hope people are reading and liking this. I have a Scarr fic in the works as well.

*~*~*~*~*

**What Happens in Vegas…**

**Chapter 3**

"What about you?" Cole questioned, glancing at Schuyler through tired eyes.

"What about me?" Schuyler responded warily, knowing what Cole wanted but trying to act nonchalant.

"What's your story? And don't try playing dumb or blowing me off. Everybody's got a story. Yours probably explains why you're such a big pervert." The teen flicked a smirk in Schuyler's direction.

The teacher stayed calm, speaking soothingly to himself in his mind: _It's alright; he's just trying to bait you. _Out loud, he asked the boy, "Why do you care? I mean, look – I don't want to fight, but Cole, you despise me. And currently, I don't think too highly of you. I've been asking myself all day why I decided to help you." Cole began to open his mouth, but Schuyler spoke first, "And no, not because of Starr. She doesn't have much to do with my reasoning actually. What would my telling you about my past do? Besides probably supplying you with months of verbal ammo against me, not to mention more things to get me fired from a job. That is, if I get mine back,"

Schuyler muttered this last line, then quickly shook his head as if to rid himself of those negative thoughts, "Again – why do you care?"

Cole was shivering; his arms wrapped around his knees, hugging himself tightly, "I don't. I…I just need to be distracted." Schuyler sighed and moved off the tub's ledge so he was sitting on the floor next to the teen, "I can understand that. So…why don't you pick a topic, and we'll discuss it?"

Cole let out a huff of frustration, "God! You sound like such a…_teacher_. I don't want to _discuss topics_ with you. I just need you to talk. And right now, besides a mutual hatred of each other, drugs are all we have in common."

Schuyler sighed again; then, surprising both Cole and himself, he began to speak. Later, he thought about why. He rationalized that while part of him (the counselor's side) hoped that hearing another addict's struggle would help Cole in his own fight, the real reason that was, since coming to Llanview, he had not really discussed his past with anyone.

Of course, there was Stacy, but even though she had lived part of his story with him, Schuyler knew that drugs weren't his only addiction in Vegas. Plus, Stacy was merely a witness; she never fully understood the addict's mindset – why Schuyler did what he did.

Though Cole's story was different from Schuyler's, the emotions, cravings, and mindset were alike.

*~*~*~*~*

**Schuyler's POV**

_I guess my story begins when I was around 19, a little older than you. I grew up living a pretty nice life – big house, decent grades, cool parents. My mom, as you know, was a doctor, and because of my grades, she had high hopes for me. I would follow in her footsteps, maybe not become an OB-GYN, but nevertheless, there was to be another Dr. Joplin in our family when I finished school._

_Honestly, I was excited. I thought it would be cake. I swam through high school and loved biology; in just a few years I'd be a hotshot doctor._

_Looking back now, I know part of the reason I chose to attend school in Nevada was Las Vegas. Nevada itself was a new place and of course, Vegas has the party rep. In high school, I definitely leaned more towards the academic crowd, but I had a group of friends and we did the typical "teenage" stuff – by that I mean we drank at weekend parties and sometimes smoked weed._

_I could have done to any number of schools, but I wanted the whole "college experience." I wanted to study, yeah, but I wanted to meet girls, party my ass off, and leave school with some stories to tell. Where better than Vegas?_

*~*~*~*~*

Schuyler paused at this point and laughed, though the sound was more bitter than anything, "Boy, did I come back with a story."

*~*~*~*~*

**Las Vegas, Nevada – 5 years earlier**

Though the winding desert road was empty, Schuyler eased his foot off the accelerator. It was dark out and the sleek convertible had more than enough power revving through it.

James Daniels leaned over from the seat behind Schuyler and tapped him on the shoulder with a can of beer, "Thanks again for driving us, Sister Sky. It was really cool of your mom to rent us this sweet ride."

"Anything for her baby boy," Schuyler laughed, then frowned, "And knock it off with that damn nickname, you know I hate that shit."

From the backseat next to James, Eduardo Morales groaned, "I don't see why we didn't stop at that hotel back there, man. It's the middle of the fucking night. The casinos and strippers will all be there in the morning. Jimmy and I aren't even going to school here, dude."

James rolled his eyes, and dropped a fresh beer in Eddie's lap, "Drink this and stop being such a whiny bitch." At this, Eddie blanched and groaned again, leaning over the right side of the car.

Wes Reynolds spoke up from the seat next to Schuyler, "Knock it off J, you know Eddie gets carsick. But Eddie, you'll soon forget about that my man. There's nothing like driving up to Vegas for the first time."

Schuyler glanced over at his best friend, "Like that scene in _Swingers_, right?" Wes lower the sunglasses he was wearing, even though it was dark, "Even better, man. Your first trip to Vegas ranks right up there with the defining moments in a man's life. Y'know – your first drink or joint, your first fight – "

"Your first fuck!" James crowed from the backseat, causing Schuyler to crack up laughing. Wes just grinned and pushed his glassed back up the bridge of his nose.

As the drive continued, the car lapsed into silence. After a little more than an hour, Schuyler was getting ready to ask Wes to switch, as he was getting tired. Before he could ask though, Wes sat up in his seat, "This is it pal, just over this hill. Get ready."

The "hill" turned out to be more of a mountain, but all thoughts of complaining left Schuyler's mind the second the car got over the crest. Quickly, he pulled over and stopped the car on the side of the road. As he exited the vehicle, he remembered his friends in the backseat. Glancing over though, he saw Eddie curled up asleep and Jimmy appeared to have passed out, his side of the backseat littered with empty beer cans.

Wes was already out and leaning against the convertible's hood. Schuyler joined him, gesturing at the two still in the car, "Should we wake them up?"

Wes just shrugged, rolling something between his fingers, "Fuck 'em. We brought them to split the gas cost. Like Eddie said, they're not going to school with us anyways."

Schuyler shrugged at this; by this point, he was well aware of the fact that his best friend could be a giant asshole. He was again distracted from his thoughts as he turned his gaze to the view in front of him.

Las Vegas was spread out before him, an amalgam of bright lights and flashing colors. Wes was right; _Swingers_ nailed it, but experiencing it for real was so much better.

Schuyler hadn't realized that he was gaping open-mouthed until a sharp nudge in the ribs brought him back. Wes had taken off his sunglasses and grinning like a little kid, "What did I tell you, man? Welcome to our new home, buddy."

At this, he reached in the pocket of his leather jacket and removed a lighter. Schuyler watched as his friend lit the joint and took a drag, the light desert breeze gently wafting the smell of marijuana around them.

Schuyler froze for a moment as Wes held the joint out to him, "I'm driving, man." The teen laughed and kept his hand outstretched, "Don't be such a Girl Scout, Schuy. Or is it _Sky_? It's not like you've never smoked before, bro. C'mon, first time in Vegas. Let's live a little."

Schuyler frowned, but hesitantly took the joint, "School starts in a week, Wes. We came here for more than just the parties."

The grin stayed on Wes' face, "Yeah, don't forget the money and bitches. Kidding. I'm just kidding. Chill out, Schuyler. Smoke the joint. Doesn't mean you're going all Hunter Thompson on me. Like you said, we've got a week. We'll rob the casinos blind, drink nothing but alcohol, and make all the strippers fall in love with us. Then, we'll go to school and become the best doctors this country has ever seen. We've got it under control."

Schuyler relaxed; his friend's attitude was contagious. With a rueful smirk, he raised the joint to his lips and took a long drag. Exhaling, he watched the smoke drift away, the twinkling lights of Vegas in the background.

Wes tossed his arm over Schuyler's shoulder and swept a hand across the view in front of them, "That's right. Take it all in man. This is our time now."

*~*~*~*~*

**A/N: **I really enjoyed writing the second half of this chapter. The part about _Swingers_ was inspired by a description of a first trip to Vegas in another book. I have never seen the movie myself, but I have read Hunter S. Thompson.

Sorry about the "rougher" language in this chapter – I was trying for realistic college boy dialogue.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** ABC still owes everything One Life related. I still own Vegas.

**Summary:** Set after Cole's hallucinations in the May 1st episode, Schuyler helps the boy through withdrawal, remembering his own past with substance abuse in the process.

**Author's Notes: **So yeah, I realized that Chapter 3 was very short. Then I checked and saw all my chapters are short. Sorry. I tried making this one longer. Enjoy. =)

*~*~*~*~*

**What Happens in Vegas…**

**Chapter 4**

**Las Vegas, Nevada – 5 years ago**

**Fall Semester**

The school year had started off well for Schuyler. He had been on campus for a few months now and was enjoying his freedom. Like many of his fellow students, he found himself sharing a cramped dorm room with a near stranger, but since the kid was almost never there, Schuyler didn't mind.

He too, was out and about most of the time. The classes were fascinating, but demanding; a typical weeknight found Schuyler spending hours of time on his assignments.

Weekends, however, were a completely different story. With his best friend Wes on campus as well, Schuyler always had someone to go out and explore the crazy city with. Both young men were intelligent, attractive, and fun loving so they were constantly meeting new people and discovering interesting places.

On this night, Schuyler found himself on a couch between Wes and some new acquaintances at a hip nightspot. Wes was very personable (and a bit manipulative, in Schuyler's opinion), and had gotten to know a number of "connections," so the students rarely worried about getting carded or being caught drinking underage.

Lately, Schuyler had been thinking about the amount of partying they had been doing. Fridays and Saturdays were constantly spent a club or bar. Wes had been pestering him to try a casino and more so, a strip club, but Schuyler wasn't too interested in the prospect. He doubted those were places to meet any respectable girl, especially in a town like Vegas. He found that outside of the tourists, many people were rather fake; it seemed like they put on the glitz, as if expecting cameras at any second. The stories he heard often were similar – the person was trying to make it in L.A. and Vegas was a pit-stop, just another stair on the ladder upwards.

As a result, and despite the piles of people he was constantly meeting, Schuyler didn't have many friends outside of Wes and often felt pretty alone. The fact that Thanksgiving was coming up calmed him; he'd get to see his family, especially his mother, have a few good meals, and rest up. Upon returning, he'd have his first set of college finals to prepare for, and then Christmas. With the impending tests and holidays, Schuyler had an excuse to take a break from the hard charging party life for awhile and he was glad.

However, since this was the last hurrah before the exams, Schuyler was living it up. He and Wes had smoked some weed before hitting the clubs, and that combined with a large amount of alcohol in the past few hours had left Schuyler nicely wasted.

He was roused from his comfortable drunk slump when Wes nudged him, "Yo man, check who it is," nodding at someone across the smoky room.

Schuyler picked his head up and squinted in the dim lighting. He could barely keep his own feet in focus and Wes expected him to pick a figure out of a crowd?

"It's the Halloween guy, Schuy!" Schuyler turned his bleary stare to his friend and shrugged. Wes snorted and rolled his eyes, "Jesus, you're toasted. Halloween, though? The guy? With the _stuff_?"

Oh yeah. Even through his alcohol-addled brain Schuyler remembered Halloween, when he and Wes met up with a "connection" and spent the evening at a costume party, tripping on acid. Wes loved it, but for Schuyler – never again. His brain wasn't wired for hallucinogens, he figured. But apparently, said connection was here in the club. Schuyler still couldn't find him, but whatever.

Wes rose from his seat, stumbling into the table a bit. Looks like Schuyler wasn't the only toasted one tonight. "Be right back, Schuy. You need anything?"

When Wes tripped, Schuyler had reached out to steady the drinks on the table, and now had a bottle in his hand. Grinning, he shook his head, "Got your beer, that's all I need."

Wes walked away, flipping the finger as he did so. Schuyler watched as a man greeted his best friend. Handshakes and backslaps were exchanged before the two were swallowed by the crowd.

Since it was getting late, most of the people they had met that night were starting to leave. Schuyler nodded at those who were heading out and scanned everyone else as he drank Wes' beer. A flash of sequins and hair caught his eye and he turned his head in time to see a tall, skinny blonde stroll past. She had on a scanty silver dress and heels that looked deadly. Schuyler caught himself staring more openly than he would if he were sober. With a quiet chuckle, he again raised the beer to his lips. _Trashy, yet oddly attractive,_ he thought.

Strangely, almost as if she had heard him speak aloud rather than think, the blonde stopped and looked at him, a weird little smirk gracing her overly glossed lips. Then she was off again, moving much faster than Schuyler believed the stilts she had on her feet would allow.

He polished off the beer, idly wondering were Wes had wandered to. The large amount of liquid he had polished off that evening was making itself known however, effectively cutting off Schuyler's ponderings. Carefully, he stood and made his way around the table and towards the men's room, doing a pretty decent job of avoiding people and objects.

However, his luck lasted only until the one step in front of the men's room. In his inebriation, Schuyler failed to notice the large "Watch your step" sign. He ended up watching his foot get caught on the lip of the stair, sending him crashing through the swinging restroom door.

"What the _fuck_ man!?" Wes shouted as Schuyler straightened up, "Oh, it's fuckin' you, Schuy. Shit, you scared me. Lock the goddamn door."

Still distracted by his stumble, Schuyler blindly began to do as Wes asked and groped for the door's lock. However, a loud sniffing sound caused him to freeze and bring his attention to his friend, or rather, what his friend was doing.

Even through the alcohol haze, Schuyler quickly took in the sight of the other young man bent over, snorting a line of white powder off the countertop. He was surprised at the absolute sense of disgust that came over him almost instantly.

Wes straightened up, wiping at his nose and sniffling. Smirking, he turned to Schuyler, a tightly rolled dollar bill in his hand, "Dude, try this shit. It's _amazing_,"

With that, Schuyler snapped out of his horrified daze and quickly turned to exit, pausing only briefly to vocalize his opinion of his best friend's idea, "Fuck you, man. Just…fuck you." The door swung shut behind him, leaving Wes standing there, openmouthed in shock.

*~*~*~*~*

Although he was wearing his trademark aviator sunglasses, Wes Reynolds squinted as he gazed through the dusty windshield of the rented sedan. It had been about a week and a half since he'd seen his best friend. Wes had tried to apologize the next day, but Schuyler was having none of it.

The week past and most of the students had gone to be with their families for Thanksgiving. Wes was one of the few that had stayed; he might have been from a more prominent family than most, but as far as he knew, money had never bought anyone love. It certainly hadn't helped him.

The holiday had past and now it was Sunday. Classes were to resume the next day and it was obvious even here at the airport, with the large number of college students filtering into the parking lot.

Speaking of, Wes grinned ruefully and leaned on the horn as Schuyler Joplin exited the terminal, a backpack slung casually over one shoulder. Schuyler, as did most of the people in the vicinity, started and turned to look at the car.

Seeing who was behind the wheel, Schuyler frowned. Wes beckoned to him; hopefully he looked sorry enough. With a shake of his head, Schuyler came over to the car and leaned into the passenger window, "I told you I'd take a taxi."

"Actually," Wes said, picking up his pack of cigarettes and removing one, "You didn't tell me shit since you didn't return any of my calls." Schuyler sighed, in an agitated manner, "Yet you kept leaving messages, and you showed up here anyways."

Wes lit the cig with a flick of his lighter and laughed, "Alright, enough with the lover's quarrel. Get in, we're headed the same way,"

Schuyler glared for a minute more, then rolled his eyes and opened the door, chucking his bag into the backseat. He climbed in and slammed the door, turning to Wes, "Seriously, man. Seriously? Cocaine, Wes? Booze, weed, and maybe acid I could understand, but since when were you ever into the hard stuff?"

To his credit, Wes appeared properly shamed, "Look, Schuyler. It was that dealer, man. He has _everything_-" Schuyler scoffed, the sound harsh in the small car, "And you felt the need to sample it all?"

Wes looked away at the cigarette he held out the window, "I was just curious. Man, you're my bro. I didn't mean to piss you off or whatever. I'm sorry, dude."

Schuyler sighed again, this time sounding weary, "Yeah, I was pissed, but I was more worried. You're like my brother too. I just was surprised."

Wes took a drag of the cig, and then flicked the butt out, sending it spinning away from the window, "It was a one time thing, promise." He turned to Schuyler and took off his glasses, a look of regret evident in his gaze, "We cool, bro?"

Schuyler remained quiet for a minute, before extending his fist to his best friend, "Yeah. We're cool."

The young men grinned and knocked fists, and then Wes put his glasses back on and started the car. As they pulled away from the airport, Schuyler turned and said, "And could you have been anymore cliché? Coke off a bathroom counter of a club in Vegas. Seriously?"

The pair laughed heartily and headed back to school.

*~*~*~*~*

**A/N: **Ok – a warning for upcoming chapters: Obviously there will be gratuitous drug abuse, as well as gratuitous Stacy (ew, sorry about that). I didn't think the bathroom scene in this chapter was too bad and didn't want to ruin anything by giving away the "surprise."

I have big things planned for this story, and perhaps beyond. Mwuhahaha. *Evil laugh*


End file.
